My reading funk appears to be over, thanks to Nick Harkaway’s The Gone-Away World—managed a breakthrough yesterday. Of course, I still have 70-odd pages to go, so some damn fool ending could ruin things, which would be a shame. Expect a review this week. Assuming my internet access doesn’t become a problem. I can tell you now that James Wood probably wouldn’t like it though.
I suppose I should have posted this on Saturday, but didn’t think of it—the CP stopped by on Friday for a pre-trip visit and read me a lovely poem. Do enjoy “The Elephant Is Slow to Mate” by D.H. Lawrence (n.b., I have mentioned before that I never cared for Lawrence, but in fact it appears I do.):
The elephant, the huge old beast,
is slow to mate;
he finds a female, they show no haste
for the sympathy in their vast shy hearts
slowly, slowly to rouse
as they loiter along the river-beds
and drink and browse
and dash in panic through the brake
of forest with the herd,
and sleep in massive silence, and wake
together, without a word.
So slowly the great hot elephant hearts
grow full of desire,
and the great beasts mate in secret at last,
hiding their fire.
Oldest they are and the wisest of beasts
so they know at last
how to wait for the loneliest of feasts
for the full repast.
They do not snatch, they do not tear;
their massive blood
moves as the moon-tides, near, more near
till they touch in flood.